Night Workout

Chapter 5: Last Night and Its Many More Parts

JANUARY 4TH: PART IV

It's warm, incredibly warm. And Joong has yet to figure out if it's from their shared body heat or that tingle in his chest.

They're connected, finally one and it's everything like and not like what Joong thought it would be. The warmth he predicted -discombobulating but foreseeable. The accompanying coldness however, he didn't see coming. Because as much as this is a release for both of them, it also feels like dipping into uncharted waters; the unknown of their relationship. What now, what's more after this? Should they reach the why and the how?

Well whatever it is Joong can't be bothered to think about it now. Because he's here, and it's warm and he's warm and he looks beautiful in his arms -Nine looks beautiful in his arms so forgive Joong for blanking. Nothing in his mind matters more right now than his want -his need to make this good for them, make this good for him; for Nine.

It hasn't been long since he's entered the older. The foreplay had been mind-blowing and Nine had been so responsive it drove Joong crazy. All his little noises, his squirms, the various tells on his face, the twitching of his body. It's insane to think that he is bestowed the absolute greatest pleasure of witnessing all this. So much of tonight has been Joong trying not to keep blanking and keeping things running. And if truth are to be told then Joong would confess that it is too much for his 18 year old mind and heart to take in. But he was never raised a quitter, so personal crises be damned he's gonna make this good for them.

The prep wasn't awkward. Joong might've been young and impressionable but he wasn't stupid, he knew what to do -and so does Nine evidently since he pulled out the lube (they made do with that lotion) before Joong could. One finger, two fingers, three fingers in -and it still feels like a dream; one too good Joong's sure he's gonna be woken up from it any minute now. Because this is so not them. This is the opposite of what they are. The exact thing they hadn't agreed on.

Their agreement. Their rule, the rule. They had to stick to the rule -that was the deal, that was the plan. The rule keeps them safe. The rule keeps them from screwing up. The rule would never let them go this far. But as they are, the rule could do nothing but stare disapprovingly -as the two morons that are Joong and Nine broke both the metaphorical and the physical dam. Fuck the rule. Fuck indeed.

It's so good, so good. Breaking the rule feels so good and Joong's sure he's not the only one feeling it. Nine's "Harder Joong, faster! Please oh please!" is more of an indication that anything could ever be. They're high on that rebellion. It's sweet, it's succulent, it's delectable and Joong wants more more MORE!

It's filthy -skin slapping skin, sweaty grips and messy kisses, red bitten lips and nail scratched back. It's dirty -like the babble coming out of Joong's mouth, dirty like Nine's precum soaked abdomen, dirty like the bed sheets under them -rumpled and messy. But it's also sweet, so sweet it's almost saccharine.

It's too sweet because by now Joong would be lying if he says none of this is doing shit to his heart. He's undeniably and devastatingly in love -and finally admitting that feels like falling into a pit where he doesn't see the end. He's fucked, absolutely and utterly fucked. He's been fucked since they kissed in the car -no scratch that, he's been fucked the moment they first set eyes on each other. But nothing, nothing could ever solidify how fucked he was as the moment he entered his beloved and felt the overwhelming feeling of love bloom inside his chest. Joong sometimes questions his own capacity on fucking up. But this? This takes the fucking cake.

Weirdly enough thought, he's also hit with this sudden urge not to care. There's this thing Joong read about once, about people finding serenity and peace in accepting the fact that they're completely screwed over. "Like those musicians who kept playing as the titanic sank", he thought. Succumbing to their demise with open arms -full acceptance.

Falling in love with Nine already felt like a descent into the abyss, so why should he care. Joong can get with this whole serenity in death thing. Damn be the rule, damn be his feelings too. He'll plunge into the water willingly, swim deeper at his own free will, let the water engulf him with it's violent waves.

"So this is what it feels like to give your heart away" Joong thinks. It's dark and it's cold because he's not sure what he's signing up into. Is it to go back to being friends, or the bigger possibility to be less of that? Is it to have his heart broken after the best night of his life? Is it to no longer deny his pining and sit by the sidelines with his heart in shambles? He doesn't know, doesn't care right now. He welcomes the dark and the cold of the unknown.

He only knows Nine, Nine, Nine. He's a fool - a fool in love. A fool with at least enough awareness to know that this might be his last moment with Nine. By tomorrow they'll sober up from the longing, the momentary laps in judgement, the residual glow of sex -and they'll wake up knowing they've fucked up. Knowing they can't keep this up, can't afford to screw (up), can't afford to fuck (up). Not with who they are, not with their line of work, not with the kind of future that's still ahead of them. Can't afford that, can't afford the currency of love.

So Joong treats right now like he's gonna die tomorrow. Grabbing for all that he can, but letting go of what he knows he can't. Lending himself to the moment, letting himself taste the intensity of the feelings -gets lost in it. If it felt good to break rules, then it feels great to live without them. Joong is high on that rebellion, their rebellion. They're chasing that high, their bodies moving in tandem. The creaking of Nine's bed frame echoes their thirst. It's an overpowering need. His need to be inside Nine, his need to leave a lasting imprint -one that couldn't be brushed off even come morning. Almost like clockwork, the rhythm of their push and pull.

They chase it -over and over and over and then it's too much, far too much. And Joong can feel it, that familiar simmer pooling. Nine's not far from it either if the escalating way he's screaming Joong's name point blank is anything to take by. They keep going -running, chasing, hounding that release. It's so close, it's unbearable. The release they both yearn tonight, but might not come sunrise. The pleasure that marks the beginning of their end.

It brims and spills, and then it's over like that. The evidence of their nosedive into pleasure ending up splattered between their torsos and the sheets. Coming down from the high takes time, and Joong savored every last bit of it. Eyes closed and panting he's safe from reason, free from logic. Nothing, nothing keeps him safer. So he keeps them close and submits himself to the siren calls of sleep.